The Chocolate Bride
by Deathofme
Summary: [2005 movie] Pygmalion&Galatea inspired. Wonka is forced to marry and he decides if he must, it will be a girl he makes himself from chocolate! COMPLETE
1. Prologue

A/N Loosely based off the Greek myth, 'Pygmalion and Galatea'. This first is just a bit of an intro, and later on we'll see the odd circumstances Wonka finds himself under that requires a bride, his mischievous solution, and ultimately, what goes very, very wrong.

Prologue

"Now Charlie, now that we are very sure-are we very sure?"

Charlie smiled as the chocolatier cocked his head in enquiry and nodded.

"Yes we're very sure."

"Right-now that we're very sure you are going to be my successor, I will now tell you the greatest secret of all chocolatiers."

Charlie continued smiling as the pink dragon boat zoomed down the chocolate river to some unknown location. He wasn't sure if Mr. Wonka was actually as serious as he was pretending to be or if it was another great show so he continued to smile.

"Don't you want to say, 'Oh Goody!' ?"

"Oh goody!"

Wonka smiled and made to pat Charlie's head, thought better of it, and wiped his glove on the front of his coat.

When they arrived to the secret destination, Charlie was quite surprised to see just a plain door. All the other rooms in the great Chocolate factory were fantastical, elaborate and dripping with imagine (not to mention sweets) but he saw before him a plain, wooden door.

"What's in there Mr. Wonka?"

"In here is the greatest secret to all chocolatiers, and now I will share it with you. All the greatest chocolatiers know of this secret. Lindt, Cadbury, that obscure fellow who first put liquor into chocolates, Hershey even. We all know."

Charlie realized just how serious Wonka was and was entranced. He stared excitedly at the door.

"What is it Mr. Wonka?"

In reply Wonka inserted a plain iron key into the door, unlocked it and then motioned for Charlie to open it. His palm sweating, Charlie turned the knob and eased the door open to set sight on the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Something to even rival Wonka's chocolate room.

"This, Charlie, is the Sugar Plum Faerie. She is the chocolatier's godess."

Charlie was awed. In the middle of the room a large portrait that glistened and twinkled was hung up on the wall. The faerie herself was beautiful, her skin seemed to have been spun sugar, her wings the finest threads of cotton candy, decorated with a rainbow of gumdrops and her dress stitched together with all the finest crinkly candy wrappers.

"But Mr. Wonka, she can't be real…"

And then Wonka said something so profound and wise that it shocked Charlie, who had expected nothing more than silliness from the eccentric genius behind the finest candy in the world.

"Does that matter Charlie, that she's real or that the candy she inspires is real?"

"So all the other chocolatiers know?"

Wonka nodded. Then he leaned closer to Charlie and whispered conspiratorially in his ear.

"I know you wonder this, why is my candy more dandy than theirs?"

Wonka paused for a moment, checking to see no one was there.

"That's because Charlie…I'm the only one who has dreams of her."

A/N Please R/R!


	2. Chapter 1

A/N I hate this FF formatting

Chapter 2

The Wonka factory was well under way with its newest additions enthusiastically overseeing projects and spinning his own quaint creations in the Inventing Room. The Oompa Loompas were working harder than ever after their unexpected chocolate bonus and they were rip-roaring ready to take on the challenge of creating new candies for the upcoming Halloween.

Except for Mr. Wonka himself.

"Ew."

"What's the matter Willy, you seem upset."

"Ah, Mrs. Bucket, would you kindly explain this to me...it's…it's…"

"Hate mail? Blackmail? Threatening mail?"

"…weird."

Mrs. Bucket wiped her hands on her apron and took the letter from Wonka's hands, who was glad to be rid of it and quickly wiped his on the front of his coat. She quietly murmured along as she read it.

"Dear Mr. Wonka,

The Internation Union of Chocolatiers and Confectionists (or the IU of CC) would like to inform you of a new regulation that was passed by our board of executive members. To ensure that delicious candy will always be provided to the world we have passed a decree stating that all Chocolatiers and Confectionists must provide an heir or have the potential to provide an heir by the end of this year. This means, in plainer terms, that you must provide an apprentice or successor that can legally take over your company by the end of this year (meaning they must be 18 years of age) or that you can provide an heir of your own via a spouse/partner. All chocolatiers and confectioners who cannot meet these requirements will forfeit their company as the Union cannot care for their company after they are no longer to run them. The only exemptions to this decree is if the chocolatier/confectionist is under the age of 40 or if they resign from the IU of CC before the end of this year. We find you, Mr. William Wonka, in violation of this new decree. We advise you to take action as soon as possible.

The Executive members of the IU of CC Board."

Wonka nodded.

"Uh huh."

"Do you know what that means Willy?"

"No."

"It means you have to have a successor before the end of the year."

"Oh well that's all well then, snozzwangers and whangdoodles, I thought I was in trouble. I have Charlie."

"You are in trouble Willy."

"Why's that?"

"Charlie's not going to become of age by the end of this year. He's only ten. He'll be eleven."

"Well can't we just put him in the Quick-Drying machine and dry him until he's of age?"

"No Willy you can't do that to people."

"Oh."

"There's two other options. You can pull out of the union."

"No!"

"I think you should Willy, there's no other way."

"But they send complimentary soaps each year, I'm quite fond of them."

"Complimentary-what does soap have to do with chocolate?"

"Who was discussing soap my good madam, I am shocked. This is a chocolate factory!"

"You were the one who said-"

"All I said was that you said was what I said."

"Willy you either pull out of the union or give up your factory!"

And then Wonka grew quiet.

"Don't say that."

Mrs. Bucket felt guilty for shocking him like that and he looked quite upset indeed. She tried to be consoling and handed him back the letter.

"You're going to have to make a decision."

"Who says I have to do anything?"

"The letter says you do."

"Letters can't talk."

"You know what I mean."

"No I don't, I don't understand you at all. How can paper and ink, an inanimate object suddenly find itself the urge to talk? To converse? To indulge in DISCOURSE?"

After an angry little huff Wonka reread the letter and all of a sudden his eyes lit up.

"Oh but there's another way! All I have to do is get those obnoxious parasites and have them inhabit in the factory. Hmmm…I'll have to find an Oompa Loompa that's immune to itching-"

"That's spouse, not louse Willy."

"What's a spouse?"

"It's a husband or a wife. The other way is you have to be married Willy."

And Mrs. Bucket truly did not expect Wonka's next reaction and it shocked her into silence. It made her truly fear for the chocolatier's sanity.

Wonka clapped his hands and cheerily said,

"Oh goody!"

A/N Please R/R


	3. Chapter 2

A/N I really hate this stupid FF formatting...grumble...Anyways, my lone reviewer ROCKS MY SOCKS! Sinisterchic you may now pat yourself on the back and join the party, because today you can feel good about yourself. :) For anyone else who wants to feel unashamedly proud, why don't you click that lonely button in the corner? Pwease?

Things are starting to move, and soon we will meet Wonka's newest creation! Will try to update soon.

Chapter 3

"Charlie?"

Wonka was normally quite unconcerned with the rest of the world and never had a line of worry crossed his face, but at the present moment he found himself stuck with the annoying feeling as he very much concerned himself about his apprentice Charlie. The blasted boy was nowhere to be found in the factory.

He noticed an Oompa Loompa tugging at his trouser leg and looked down. The little creature signed that Charlie had taken the pink dragon boat down the river and Wonka immediately knew where the little boy had run off to. He was slightly annoyed, but felt a warm feeling of affection as well.

"Weird."

Wonka hopped out of the glass elevator and then quietly pushed open a plain, wooden door. The only plain, wooden door in all of his factory, matter of factly. Charlie turned his head and looked sheepishly at who had entered.

"I'm sorry Mr. Wonka, but I just had to see her again."

Wonka sat on the floor beside his protégé and looked up at the portrait of the beautiful faerie as well. She had been his shining light during his struggles, running away from home, first opening his shop, having to close because of thievery, and all the other rare moments when he fell into real madness and sometimes…despair.

"She's very magical,"

Said the little boy,

"I come to see her every morning before we work."

"I used to as well."

"You mean you don't anymore Mr. Wonka?"

"No."

"Well…well why not?"

"Because we have to keep on trucking!"

Wonka took Charlie by the arm and jovially steered him out of the room and into the pink dragon boat. They actually did have a lot of things to do seeing as one of Charlie's Halloween ghost candy inventions exploded and was now multiplying and scaring the bejeesus out of the poor oompa loompas.

"Don't worry Charlie, you'll see her again. And when she comes to your dreams…you have truly become a chocolatier."

Charlie had finally sorted out what to do with the sugary ghosts flying around the Inventing Room. You just had to shout 'Boo!' right back at them and they screamed and crumpled back into their original form. He decided he kind of liked how the mistake changed his invention and was about to show Wonka before the master chocolatier himself stopped him.

"Now Charlie, which do you think would be more interesting. Whole light chocolate, whole dark chocolate, or a mix of both?"

Charlie thought for a moment.

"Mostly light chocolate with a dash of dark thrown in."

"Ah."

Wonka threw himself back into the latest concoction he was stirring. He poured a large vat of light chocolate into a machine and then a ladleful of dark chocolate, just to make things a little more interesting. The machine whirred and finally made a ding before a large rectangular block of chocolate came out the other end.

Charlie forgot all about his sugar ghosts.

"Mr. Wonka, what is that huge block of chocolate for?"

"A good chocolatier always carves the prototype by hand first! No muddling with fuddy-duddy machines at first, nosirree!"

And then with a special cart, Wonka wheeled the large block over to a special corner of the Inventing Room where there was less bustle and he brought out some carving tools.

"A prototype for what?"

"A WIFE?"

Charlie nodded,

"I swear mum, that's what he said."

Mrs. Bucket hung her head in her hands and she truly feared for the chocolatier's sanity.

"Oh dear…I do believe Mr. Wonka is up to some mischief."


	4. Chapter 3

A/N Okay, okay, my THREE reviewers ROCK MY SOCKS! Yay! hands out party hats If you want to join the fun, please click that sad little button in the corner of your screen. I've been watching my hits, don't think I don't know you read this story for free! maniacal laughter

Okay, here's where we meet the bride herself, and later on we'll see her come to life! And I'm trying to make the chapters longer. :)

Chapter 4

Mrs. Bucket made her way to the Inventing Room early in the morning in hopes of catching Mr. Wonka before Charlie woke up and the two of them resumed their duties of concocting Halloween candy. They apparently were going to perfect sugar ghosts and begin on witches later in the afternoon.

She knocked politely on the door and was greeted by none other then the man himself.

"Hello Mrs. Bucket."

"Willy you can't have a chocolate girl for a wife."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You can't have a chocolate bride."

"Well you're just weird! I only said good morning, not 'I'm making a chocolate bride'. Mrs. Bucket, do you feel well?"

"Let me come inside Willy."

"No."

He suddenly shielded the doorway with his body, his arms flung out. Mrs. Bucket sighed and folded her arms across her chest and gave him a very stern look that only mothers can give.

"Willy you have chocolate shavings all over your apron, various carving tools in your apron pocket and your hand, AND you have a drawing of a girl poking out from the rim of your top hat. Now don't tell me you're not making a chocolate girl."

"I'm making a chocolate girl."

"See you've admitted it."

"I haven't admitted anything."

"You just said you were making a chocolate girl!"

"You just told me not to say I wasn't making a chocolate girl!"

Mrs. Bucket hung her head in her hands and decided the conversation was completely pointless and gave up. She patted Willy's shoulder, said her goodbyes and trotted on the way back home. She knew Willy always meant the best, but now she'd have to concoct some way to make sure the Union wouldn't meddle. It would be a sorry thing for them to lose the factory indeed.

"Complimentary soaps my foot."

But thinking harder, it didn't seem out of character for Willy at all.

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When Charlie arrived he noticed his mentor was perfectly content with leaving him to fix up the sugar ghosts and witches all by his lonesome. He offered help now and again in a distracted way and Charlie was a little put down. Wonka worked all day on the block of chocolate far in the abandoned corner and he paid Charlie little attention at all.

Wonka chipped and chiseled and shaved all day. He had completely thrown himself into creating his chocolate girl and slowly she began to emerge, bit by bit, feature by feature. Now and again when Charlie needed a break, he'd walk over and slowly he found he couldn't begrudge her a single bit of Wonka's attention.

"She's very beautiful. In fact she looks just like…"

Charlie fell silent. He knew at that moment exactly who she looked like and his heart swelled with surprise and joy.

"…the sugar plum faerie."

Wonka said not a word and instead carefully carved out the hollows of her cheeks, every detail worked lovingly into the chocolate with his careful hands.

Once she had fully emerged from the chocolate and was not a block but a girl on a pedestal, Wonka abandoned his tools for his hands and fingers instead. He molded her, delicately and with great care. Dark circles began to grow under his eyes and he worked obsessively. His large, luminescent eyes grew bloodshot with fat red veins, he was much thinner, paler, but he never stopped working on her.

"Mr. Wonka, you really must take a rest. You haven't slept or ate for a week now!"

"Go play Charlie,"

Wonka mumbled distractedly,

"I'll come along in just a minute."

Of course he never did and with eyes still fixated on the chocolate girl he perfected her with every ounce and drop of talent and skill that he had until one day, after a fortnight of scraping and smoothing…he had finished her.

She stood standing on her tiptoes, one arm behind her back, one bent and arched in front of her as if to enquire after something. Her head bent prettily and tilted upwards and she looked as if she were just about to leap away to something she was looking at in the distance. She had delicate, elven features and a simple, red, halter top dress he had spun from marchpane. And she was the smooth brown of chocolate, every inch marked with her creator's fingerprints.

"She's beautiful Mr. Wonka."

Wonka had locked himself in his room for a day afterwards and had slept for the full 24 hours. After he woke he ate all that the oompa loompas offered him with little resistance or thought and finally made his way back down to stare at his finished creation.

"Yes…Wilhelmina."

"Ew. You can't name her that Mr. Wonka, it sounds too much like a horrible female version for William."

"What's wrong with that?"

"A lot of things."

"Okay, nix to that. Why don't you name her Charlie? It'll have to start with a 'W' though."

Charlie thought for a moment, staring at the more earthly, human sugar plum faerie and remembered a book he was reading for a school study. He liked it very much, Peter Pan was such a character, and once the thought was in his head, he couldn't see the chocolate girl any other way.

"Wendy. Her name is Wendy."

"Good. Wendy she is."

They both stared contentedly at the chocolate statue until suddenly Mr. Wonka jumped right into the air.

"My goodness-the Halloween candy!"

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A/N Ok asteriks not bloody working, must try something new. I reeaaally hate this FF formatting.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N Oh man, I love you guys! I never expected a response of any sort (I usually get ignored on FF) but you guys have been so encouraging and you make me want to post! Thanks a bunch! And I am STILL counting my hits so for you free-loaders...pwease? pwetty pwease weave a weview? That little button is so damn lonely.

And here, Wonka moves the girl up to his rooms, Grandpa George gets pissed, and a teensy weensy bit of angst. Very teensy. In the next chapter, THE CHOCOLATE BRIDE WILL COME TO LIFE!

Chapter 5

Wonka and Charlie worked furiously over the next few days to complete the Halloween candy and even found surprising bonuses. While they were coating the monster eggs one of the little sugar ghosts floating around aimlessly sneezed and Charlie accidentally dropped one of the eggs into a vat of rainbow fluff. The vat bubbled and the egg flew out again to land in Charlie's hand, swirled and dotted in the happiest colours. The egg trembled and finally cracked to reveal a very confused, yet happily striped candy monster.

"Weird,"

He breathed as it tried to nip his finger.

"Easter monsters! My splendid boy, that will do very well in spring. Something cheery with a hint of dark. Well done, well done…"

And Charlie remembered something that was also light with a hint of dark and he realized that Wendy, the chocolate girl, was nowhere to be seen in the Inventing Room.

"Where has she gone Mr. Wonka?"

"Who?"

"Wendy."

"Oh Wendy…she…well, the oompa loompas put her up in my room. It's too warm down here for her now, you know, she'll get…"

Wonka pulled a face,

"…mushy."

Charlie still felt like Wonka wasn't telling him everything but he let it go. He had just seen one oompa loompa testing their own brand of pumpkin-shaped corn candy and it would still need tweaking. It was supposed to make your face light up like a jack-o-lantern but this poor oompa loompa had light coming out where the sun doesn't usually shine.

In the evening after Charlie's father jovially greeted them all with a, "Hello Buckets!" he was surprised when Grandpa George suddenly shouted something not very nice.

"Pervert!"

"Excuse me?"

"I'd like to swim in a pool full of poodles."

Grandma Georgina had her vacant smile plastered on and seemed quite the opposite of her fuming, disgruntled husband. The crochety old man opened his mouth again and Mrs. Bucket covered Charlie's ears.

"That purple fairy who's got chocolate for brains is going to ruin our Charlie, mark my words. He's gone and put his chocolate girl up in his rooms, now what kind of man would make a chocolate girl and put her up in his rooms? It's not proper, it's not natural and it's going to contaminate our Charlie, we should move. Leave him alone with all the sodding candy. Son of a-"

Mrs. Bucket squeezed tighter against Charlie's ears and he knew Grandpa George had said something more wicked than usual.

"Why Grandpa George you shouldn't be so surprised, it's…"

Mr. Bucket shrugged.

"…it's a very Wonka thing to do, don't you think?"

Grandpa George thought for a moment and then sighed.

"You're right. We've all gone to the madhouse in a gold-foil wrapper."

"Can daisies be made of rubber?"

Grandma Georgina asked with hope.

Wonka did in fact have an ulterior motive for having the chocolate girl in his rooms. She was placed by the window, her back turned so she could look outside, and all he could see was the neat bob of hair and the bow on the back of the dress. Her hand tucked shyly in the small of her back.

Every time Wonka made a candy or chocolate, he poured a little bit of himself into it. That was what made it so special. That was why they were so fantastical and splendiferous and brought joy to people. Slugworth and all the other cheats didn't know how to do that. But while Wonka was making the chocolate girl he discovered he had poured more of himself and his soul into her than anything else he had made. And it made him feel quite empty unless he could see her.

She was his most marvelous creation. So marvelous he had to just admire all the craftsmanship and magic that had gone into her creation. And he found himself able to sleep, knowing his greatest work was not very far.

One day as Wonkalooked at his chocolate girl, Wendy he mused, he felt that very empty feeling once more.

What had happened to him that he could only fulfill his lonely life with chocolate? What had happened to that the hopeful little boy he once was, to grow into some parody of a man who could only find joy in sugar? Was there ever anything real in his life that he wanted? That he had ever managed to grasp?

And Wonka, caught in a very rare and somber mood stared at the girl with dead eyes and a small part of him wished desperately that she was real. He reached out and his hand fluttered and gently landed on her face and he cocked his head in deep thought. At some odd angle, the light glinted off of her and made her look less like chocolate and more real.

Then everything was over in an electric instant and Wonka grabbed his cane and clicked it merrily on the floor as he exited his room and made his way to meet Charlie. He was Wonka! The most amazing chocolatier in the world, and if that was his life, it was a crazy and most silly one indeed. And chocolate tasted far better than real people, ew.

And little did he know he would meet his beloved sugar plum faerie later that night.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N Ok, to my reviewers, I send all my love, and you guys really make my day. Thank you for making me grin uncontrollably and like an idiot in public places. I might not be able to update as often because school has upped and started for me, but I will try my best! Wonka will now and again go OOC in my fic, I have been trying to keep him in chara, but well...he's Pygmalion too, and that weird boy who sits in the back of the classroom and...well it's complicated.

Here...it's the moment you've all been waiting for. :)

Chapter 6

Ice creams sprinkles gently fell from the sky and tickled Willy Wonka's face as he looked at his surroundings and wasn't too sure where he was.

"I sure didn't fall asleep here, weird."

A magical tinkling echoed in the cold air, rock candies that clinked together in a shimmering array. Wonka stepped carefully on the beds of cotton candy and spun sugar crystals when he realized he was back in a place he hadn't dreamed of in a long time.

"That's right Willy."

Willy turned to see his godess, his inspiration standing before him. Her feet grazed the ground and she smiled her distant, yet familiar smile.

"Willy, the other chocolatiers have been sending their prayers and I can ignore them no longer. You must comply with their wishes very soon now. January is only two months away."

"I understand sweet faerie, and I have every intention to do so."

"I'm surprised, for I see no evidence to support you."

"I intend to marry. Cool, huh?"

The sugar plum faerie's smile slowly began to harden.

"You plan to marry? Willy Wonka I have heard you've made yourself a chocolate girl. I'm afraid she won't do."

"Faerie, how can you say anything when you have not seen her?"

The sugar plum faerie thought and then clapped her hands together. The gum drops in her wings sparkled as they slowly beat together and they found themselves back in Wonka's room. She looked and then saw the beautiful statue by the window.

"She looks like me…"

"You are the most beautiful thing I can think of."

"That's flattering Willy, but she's still not real."

"How so? She is very real to me, and it doesn't, shouldn't matter to other people. I spilt blood, sweat, tears, and breath all the while I made her. She's more real to me than other people. My life went into her. So she is alive. And if I must marry, I will have no other."

The faerie saw the stubborn look in his face and then she turned to see the more human resemblance of her own pixie features.

"Can you love her?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Wonka fell silent for a moment and when the faerie met his eyes he spoke.

"Ever since you first gave me dreams of your world and you, I have loved you. But you are something much too far away, something I cannot have. But she, I made her. She is my way of having you. So, yes."

The faerie sighed and looked upon him sadly. How strange the little boy had become, and now she could see to the full what conditions he had been nurtured in. What a silly face he showed the world, but she could see the real boy now. He would have to grow up and let life scar him...and she guessed the best way was to let him make his mistakes.

"Alright Willy. I'll let you have her. Mind you, she won't be altogether real at first, but if you truly mean it, one day I just might visit you again and magick all the chocolate away. But for now, you'll have her."

And the sugar plum faerie's smile had a hint of something scary.

"Just as you made her."

"Th-thank you."

"One of the most magical days of the year is coming 'round. On the witching hour of that night, if you show her your love, she will come alive. Don't hurt her my brave little soldier, she will not be what you expect."

And the sugar plum faerie flitted away and Willy Wonka woke up in a nervous sweat.

He hadn't had a dream of the sugar plum faerie in years since she guided him through the treacherous jungles of Loompa-land. Afterwards he had been so busy and feverish in what he was doing he didn't need his childhood guide. And he had also finally realized the inevitable.

So away, away her portrait went locked up in an empty room and he had forgotten all about her. But now, he wasn't so sure. Could his dream have been real, and could Wendy the chocolate girl actually come alive?

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Wonka paced his room all Hallow's Eve only pausing to help Charlie pick out a costume. Nix to ghosts, who is that wizard with the scar on his head, and finally Charlie just went as a skeleton.

When the clock struck twelve Wonka found he had gravitated back to the chocolate Wendy and he looked curiously at her unmoving eyes. Could it be, could it be? He saw no harm in trying and pressed a small kiss on her candy lips.

There was a shriek and suddenly something very warm and very alive tumbled into his arms.


	7. Chapter 6

A/N Hello to my faithful reviewers! I am so sorry for the late update, with school starting to get hectic (because apparently NOW we're ready for huge homework loads) I haven't been able to get on the comp until now. A hearty salute for all the rest of you who suffer school or work. salutes

In this chap, Wendy's alive, we see some downfalls to being made of chocolate...and around the end our fav. chocolatier gets a surprise. :) Chappie's much longer, yahoo!

Chapter 7

"AAAGH!"

Wonka let out a frightened yell and there was another terrible scream in the darkness. A figure he couldn't see very well stumbled back from him, tangled its legs and then went crashing to the floor.

It couldn't be...

But Wonka looked and lo and behold, the pedestal was empty and the figure that had fallen to the floor and was still shrieking bloody murder looked very much like his chocolate girl.

"Wendy?"

Wonka couldn't believe his eyes and slowly crouched down and inched closer to the panicky girl. She stared at him and slowly inched away but stopped when he stopped. They remained crouched, and sprawled on the floor for a moment of silence before Wonka chuckled.

"This is really weird."

He thrust her a hand to help her out but she startled again and flew across the room, made a hasty exit and burst down the corridors of the factory. Surprised Wonka remained very still for a couple seconds before realizing what had happened and ran after her. He only saw the flash of a red summer dress before he lost her.

Looking out a window he saw she had already made her way to the lower floors and was now causing mayhem among the oompa loompas. They screamed thinking that some witchy magic was working on Halloween and dived for cover, and they scared her as well.

Mrs. Bucket suddenly came out of the slanted house to see what the commotion was all about and her jaw dropped when she saw the chocolate girl. Charlie followed sleepily behind her but lit up when he saw the frightened girl running towards their direction.

"Mum, it's Wendy!"

Mrs. Bucket caught the shrieking girl and Wendy collapsed into her arms, exhausted and frightened and found she couldn't run anymore. A very hassled Wonka made his way to the Buckets, thankful they had been there to stop her.

Mrs. Bucket looked around her, trying to sink in what had just happened but opted to smile instead.

"Well I'd call it an eventful first night, wouldn't you Willy?"

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"S-So I'm Wendy…"

Charlie nodded.

"…and I'm made from…chocolate?"

Charlie and Wonka both nodded, Wonka holding up a chocolate bar as a visual. Wendy looked from face to face and steeled herself to say something more but then deflated just as suddenly.

She looked very real indeed, and not like she had been made from chocolate at all. But one could tell something was…off about her and Wonka suspected he'd learn sooner or later what the sugar plum faerie meant in full. She gave a shuddery breath and looked very upset and Wonka cocked his head, unsure of what to do.

"Don't worry starshine, the earth WELCO-"

Charlie gave him a smart smack on the shoulder.

"That's not helping Mr. Wonka!"

Charlie looked kindly at the newly alive Wendy, being better with the whole people thing.

"Don't worry Wendy, you'll get used to the whole idea. Mr. Wonka's very nice, and I'm sure you'll like being his Wendy. You must be tired, so you can go with Mr. Wonka-"

"-Willy-"

"-Willy, and he'll show you a place where you can sleep."

There was just something about that boy that was radiant and kind and reassuring and everything wonderful rolled into one that even the frightened (not so) chocolate girl found herself being soothed and took Wonka's hand when he offered it.

As they walked slowly back up to his rooms, Wonka wondered at how he didn't mind touching her hand. Usually he was very bad about that sort of thing, the cooties! But she was…well, she was his Wendy. He had created her, from chocolate too, and his chocolate was very clean and of the best kind. And because he hadn't even considered of thinking her in different terms, he found it not so hard.

She seemed to feel a bit better towards him, despite the initial terror, and looked around her surroundings with big eyes.

"I don't know how to be a wife."

She said this very quietly and with much trepidation. Wonka's cheery reply to this was,

"That's okay, neither do I!"

When they reached his rooms he let her in and then left for another room he could sleep in. He didn't want to scare her, and he had caught on to that he scared her, and only came back in the morning.

She was standing on her pedestal, and when Wonka came closer he noticed that she was fast asleep, standing as still as a statue.

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Things were still awkward after that but it had gotten better. Wendy seemed to be adjusting better because Charlie had taken it upon himself to show her the ropes and that little boy was so special he could charm baby birds from their nest. Mrs. Bucket also saw to it that she fretted over the newest addition to the factory and wondered how the run in with the union would turn out. She did look very real, just like a real person...and yet there was always something a little off.

She was very beautiful, she had been carved by masterful hands, but there was something always a little off about being too perfect. She still hadn't found the natural grace and ease to her movements as all people were born with, and everything looked learned (as it was). And then there was just the odd feeling she gave off.

But Mrs. Bucket, Charlie, Wonka and the oompa loompas were about to discover there was something more drastic about her that made her remain the chocolate girl.

"Ooh, it's very warm in here today."

"I know mum, the grass is starting to get sticky and making the bottom of my runners gooey."

Wonka waved and walked over, helping Wendy (who was still a little uncoordinated) as they made their way to the Buckets. He had shed his usual overcoat and seemed to be experiencing the heat just as much as they were.

"Wow! It feels like Summer's in here!"

Mrs. Bucket wiped her brow with a kerchief and proceeded to wipe Charlie's sticky face as well.

"Yes Willy, we were wondering why."

"Oh, the hot and cold machine's broken in this room."

"Oh, is it being fixed?"

Wonka laid down his coat, completely unconcerned about the sticky grass, and cheerfully grinned.

"Nope!"

On shaky legs Wendy tried to sit down but everything about her seemed a bit wobbly that day and she plopped a little gracelessly instead. All the meanwhile Mrs. Bucket was trying to be very still and waited awhile before speaking again.

"Why don't you do something about it Willy?"

"But it's like HAWAII!"

While Mrs. Bucket tried to calm herself and ended up failing and scolding Wonka instead, Charlie noticed that Wendy seemed a little odder than usual and crouched down to examine her.

"Are you feeling alright Wendy?"

"Alright? No, I feel ever so more wonderfully wonderful then that. Oh..."

She gave a little sigh, a delirious little grin plastered on her face and unexpectedly lurched forward to sweep Charlie in a hug.

"Today's so fantastic and brilliant, isn't it?"

She squeezed a little tighter.

"And you're such a delightful boy, oh I do believe I am the happiest girl alive, everything is so happy, happy, happy!"

Charlie wheezed and managed to disentangle himself from her surprisingly strong hold and stared at her incredulously. That didn't seem like Wendy at all.

"Mr. Wonka…"

"Now you go and fix the hot and cold machine for this room so it's less hot and more cold and Mrs. Bucket doesn't go red in the face again, okay?"

The oompa loompa gave a little bow and trotted off to do the chocolatier's bidding.

"Well now that that's all solved..."

Wonka sat down on the coat beside Wendy, satisfied that he had gotten something done right when he noticed the look of horror on Charlie's face and that Wendy was looking at him. He slowly turned his head to look back and saw an expression on her face he hadn't seen before.

"You are splendid!"

And she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek.

"Vermicious Knids! Charlie, she's gotten all mushy!"


	8. Chapter 7

A/N Yay, cuz it's the weekend, I can give another fast update! Don't worry folks, I've got chappies already written in advance, and I must say my fic's taking a bit of a dark turn...hmmm, but don't worry, still lots of silly Wonka goodness. And, my reviewers, I am EVER grateful for you guys staying with me on this fic, it's never happened before and you encourage me. You're my muse. :)

In this next, we see some of Wendy's woes. And pink sheep. Baa-aa-aa.

Chapter 8

Once they had gotten Wendy to a cooler room and she had a chance to harden again, she returned back to normal. When she had come back to her senses she had flushed a brilliant red, just as red as the summer dress she always wore, and shakily walked away from the concerned Buckets and the giddy Wonka (who finally decided he hadn't been infected by cooties or other such disgusting germs).

He followed her and found her standing on her pedestal again. She found some instinctive comfort with her chocolate pedestal and could remain still in a position for lengthy periods of time. But he decided he wasn't going to let her run away like that.

"Well, that sure was fun!"

She turned around, her torso spiraling gracefully and she flushed again with embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry for what happened."

Wonka only shrugged and grin.

"That's okay Wendy."

She waited expectantly for something and when Wonka realized that and tried to figure out just what she was waiting for the smile on her face slowly started to drop. He was soon going to realize what repercussions followed after putting just a hint of dark chocolate in her mixture.

"Aren't you going to apologize too?"

"Sorry?"

"You…you were the one who didn't fix the hot and cold machine even when you knew it was broken!"

Wonka knew something was going to happen and couldn't help but think, 'Think fast rabbit, think very fast…'

"It felt like Hawaii…"

"It's because you didn't get it fixed at first that I started to melt and go mushy! You should be apologizing."

"Hey, you were the one who kissed me!"

"Oh, you've done things to me too Willy!"

"Easter eggs, like what?"

"Like…like…"

Wendy started to stumble and trip over her own words and she flushed a brilliant red once more before finally managing to spit out what had really confused her for all that time, and that Mrs. Bucket and Charlie hadn't the answer to.

"…you touched my face."

And then she ran out of the room.

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Charlie tossed and turned in his sleep, unsure of his dream and what he was so desperately looking for.

The sky was raining rainbow sprinkles and softly landed on the hills of ice cream scoops and mountains of fine, whipped cream. The path he was standing on was cushioned with cotton candy fluff of purest white.

"Charlie…"

He heard his name tinkling somewhere far off in the distance. Distant, yet alluring, Charlie started to walk down the cotton candy road in search of the voice.

"Charlie…"

The voice kept beckoning and as he grew more desperate he found he was running along the cotton candy path, hurtling forward to some great unknown with wisps of sugar clinging to his toes. His breath caught up in his throat and he was going at breakneck speed when he tripped over something and fell to the ground.

The voice whispering his name died away and Charlie looked up to see a yellow gumdrop lying on the ground in front of his face.

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Wendy was confused and high strung and felt like her heart was starting to beat harder and harder and the blood rushing through her ears sounded louder than the chocolate waterfall. It made her feel dizzy and like she was about to faint, but she kept walking until she found a room where she was sure she could be alone with her thoughts for a bit.

She felt she had been pretty good about the whole situation. It was still disconcerting but she felt she had been adjusting very well. She felt great affection for Charlie and she cared very much for him and the rest of the Buckets. She was content with staying with them while Wonka and Charlie and Mr. Bucket were off working. She was curious about what was outside the factory but more scared and morbidly fascinated than curious. She didn't mind a simple life one bit.

But it almost seemed to her like something after that incident had changed her. As if when she melted a bit, the dark chocolate deep inside her core had spilled out and swirled and was showing itself more through the light. And she wasn't too sure what it was doing to her.

"Baa-aa-aa."

Wendy looked up to see the face of an old pink sheep who was impatient to get at some of the barley-sugar hay sticks she was sitting on. Smiling she patted it and fed it some of the odd candy feed.

As it went on munching, she found she didn't have a distraction anymore to stop her from continuing her line of thought. Pink sheep were very distracting, but the thought niggling at the back of her head disturbed her more.

After that, when she saw Wonka she felt different. She didn't feel it in her heart, unless it went to the rushing adrenaline rage, but somewhere just above her stomach. She technically didn't have a stomach, she didn't have to eat and she found that odd too, but somewhere above where it should be, she felt it there. It was the most peculiar sensation in the world, sometimes all fluttery, sometimes straining, sometimes like she would be sick and sometimes very warm.

And why did that night keep coming back to her? Before she had begun to move and had truly come alive, she remembered flashes of what she had seen from her lonely vigil by the window. She remembered what the factory looked like from below, which was how she knew where she was running. She remembered…the way he bent his head, looking at her with an unfathomable expression, his fingertips gently coming into contact with her face…

And why did that memory seem so important to her now? And if she thought about it and got lost in it for too long, why did her heart suddenly start to pump at an accelerated pace?

She didn't like what the dark was bringing out in her but she just knew that she couldn't do a thing about it.

"Wendy?"

Wendy looked up from numbly scratching the pink sheep's wool to see Charlie from underneath a stack of the sheared wool.

"Hello Charlie."

"What are you doing here?"

"The sheep. They're quite funny."

Charlie smiled and set the stack of wool down so he could sit beside her.

"And having a think?"

"Yes. How'd you know?"

"I've done it a couple times myself. It's a…it's a good room for a think."

They fell silent for a bit.

"You seem a little down Wendy."

"Oh it's nothing…"

"Do you want me to cheer you up?"

She cocked a shapely eyebrow in question.

"I'll tell you a fairy story."

And as he related to her the thrilling tale and adventure of Pinocchio and how the little puppet just wanted to be a real boy, he threw in grand gestures and a series of different voices so that by the end Wendy clapped her hands in joy.

"That was wonderful!"

"I'm glad you think so, well, I've got to get back. We need the wool."

"What do you use it for Charlie?"

He hesitated for a moment,

"We…we usually don't discuss the pink sheep."


	9. Chapter 8

A/N Ok, i've updated sooner because (yes, I know) nothing much happened in the last chapter. I still thank all my reviewers who've stuck with me thus far. We've hit over 1000 hits! And we're close to reaching 1500! Which means over a 100 of you have consistently stayed with this story thus far, and even though a lot of you don't review, I hope you're enjoying the fic. (but please do...review I mean)

Okay, we start to see some more problems with Wendy, a little more angst, and she gets freaky-deaky. And Charlie's slowly losing it. And up am coming, the Union execs pay a wee little visit...

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Chapter 9

Charlie stared hungrily at the portrait of the sugar plum faerie. He had gone every morning when only the oompa loompas were up and about, and with each passing day he got up earlier and earlier so he could just stare at her.

There was just something so fascinating about her. He felt if he could just reach up, he would feel her delicate dress, hear the crinkle of the candy wrappers and she would look down at him and smile. But whenever he did reach up he felt paint and canvas.

Slowly Charlie would get lost in her magic, in her sugar high.

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Before Wendy had been a calm pool of docility and placid contentment. But she found she was getting bad moods now. Days when she felt miserable. Moments when she got angry, or sad, or frustrated. She reacted more to the environment around her, and the people, and Wonka.

She had lost some of her innocence and her perception had grown and slowly she was starting to understand her world, and people better. And she wasn't too sure what to think of it all.

Wonka seemed content and unscathed through the whole thing. He showed much care for her, seeing over her wellbeing. And when she stood on her pedestal at night to sleep, he would sometimes watch her before the sandman visited him too. The expression on his face was always content. Perhaps it was the darkness, but he didn't notice that his chocolate girl didn't look back at him the same way.

Somehow, just somehow she knew he didn't feel that odd thing above his stomach when he was with her or saw her or thought of her, if he ever thought of her. Somehow she just knew that she was the only one.

"Hey Wendy, would you like some lunch with me?"

Wendy looked over to see Charlie with a lunch his mother had made and she smiled, her gorgeous lips curving into a very pretty smile, and they sat down together on the bank of the chocolate river.

"Why don't you tell me another fairy story Charlie?"

He loved telling them for her, she was the best audience, and he enjoyed putting on a bit of a performance, now in circumstances where he was able to act like a child.

"How about Peter Pan?"

"You've already told that one."

And he had, it was Wendy's favourite.

"What about…Cinderella?"

"Oh, I want to hear a very special fairy story today Charlie. Something that's really, really good, like the mother of all fairy stories."

Charlie thought for a bit and then he hit upon the perfect one.

"I'll tell you about the sugar plum faerie."

"Who?"

Charlie's sandwich hit the ground and he looked at Wendy, shocked.

"What do you mean, who?"

"I mean, who's the sugar plum faerie?"

"Didn't Mr. Wonka tell you?"

"Willy? No…"

"Wendy, you're alive because of the sugar plum faerie!"

"What?"

"That night you came alive and you went screaming and panicking, you know, we told you what happened-"

"-just that I used to be chocolate-"

"-yeah, and then…didn't Mr. Wonka tell you the rest?"

"Charlie, what don't I know about myself?"

When Charlie had told her everything about the riddle of her coming into being, Wendy felt something stir inside of her. The ladle of dark chocolate. She thanked him for lunch and then stiltedly walked away. Charlie was worried knowing that not everything was right with his new friend.

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Wonka finally found her on the boardwalk of the tunnel which the pink dragon boat would thunder down. She struck quite an image, the roaring waters flickering bolts of light across the surface of the tunnel, and the wind blowing her red dress and her hair around.

"Wendy? I've been trying to find you, and golly, are you playing a good game of hide and seek. Charlie says you're a little blue-"

She turned around to face him and Wonka had been so busy with his new inventions and the Christmas candies that had to be made, that he hadn't noticed the slow and steady change in his chocolate bride. And now she scared him a little.

"-what's the matter?"

Wendy thought for a moment.

"I'm angry."

Wonka tried to laugh,

"Huh, huh, why would you be angry?"

"Because I love you."

Wonka fell silent. All he remembered was his shy little chocolate girl, the shy little Wendy he had sculpted and she would never have been bold enough to say something like that. And the way she said it was funny too, almost like it wasn't a good thing…

"Because I love you, and you don't have to love me."

"Wendy?"

"That's the way it works, right? That's why I'm here and alive, so I can love you, and I do! But I've been magicked into it, but you've got a choice…you've got a choice and I never did…"

One drop of dark chocolate leaked out from the corner of her left eye and curled into a swirl on her cheek. It stained there and it never came out afterwards.

Once Wonka was sure she was calm, and he had calmed down himself, he gently led her back to safer grounds and into the sunlight.

He was starting to see just what devious magic the sugar plum faerie had meant when she said she would bring Wendy to life just as he made her.

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After that episode Wendy had remained placid for a good time afterwards and Wonka had redoubled his efforts into making his chocolate bride feel at home. He did what he thought he ought to do, like flowers and tentative hugs, or kisses on the cheek. Even a picnic with Charlie once. She had accepted it all calmly but her smile was still a little tainted and he could sense that she hadn't forgotten what had happened.

It all confused him more than the secret to Cadbury's eggs (how DID he manage to make them without chickens or rabbits?) and he thought and thought until he finally hit upon something he was sure she would love.

She was standing on her pedestal and looking outside the window. Her hands were folded neatly in the small of her back and she was standing as still as a statue. He crept up from behind and whispered into her ear,

"The best prize is a surprise."

She started and almost stumbled off her pedestal before he grabbed her by the shoulder and steadied her. It appeared to make her uncomfortable because she backed away and looked at him only after she was free from any contact with him.

It went right over the top of his head why she behaved like that, he wore gloves and all so he wouldn't give her cooties…but she was an odd thing. What he didn't know was that her heart had started pumping wildly and she felt woozy and that she had been having these attacks more frequently whenever she saw him. And she didn't want any of it.

"Seeing as it hasn't really been done properly and all…well, I guess you needed a ring."

He held up a simple gold band and smiled nervously at her. She smiled back and encouraged he slipped it onto her finger.

"So I guess it's proper now and, uh…well, you're my Wendy."

She looked at the ring, and he saw now her smile still wasn't the same as before, and she said,

"But you're not my Willy, are you?"


	10. Chapter 9

A/N I must apologize in advance for any times my update comes late. Things are really starting to become hectic at school now, but I will do my very best. A big sloppy kiss to all my reviewers and everyone who's stuck with the fic thus far.

(I saw Corpse Bride, squee)

In this chap, we meet the board of executives and Wendy and Willy have their first lovers quarrel.

Chapter 10

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"Charlie? Charlie wake up. Why are you tossing about? Charlie?"

But Charlie was in a strange land far, far away and he didn't hear Mrs. Bucket but instead an ethereal voice that called to his name from a place he knew he could get to if he just ran fast enough.

Tripping through the banks of cookie crumbles and vaulting over boulders of hard candy, fighting through pits of sticky gummy candies, Charlie ran and ran. He had pocketed the yellow gumdrop he had found in the road and now the path was getting more treacherous. Lumps of toffee and chocolate with spiky nuts poking through fell from the trees, almost scratching him but all he could do was run, run, run.

Suddenly Charlie found himself in a clearing. Panting hard he doubled over and wheezed until he finally caught his breath. Looking up he suddenly noticed a large painting in the middle of the clearing, three times as tall as he was! It had the sugar plum faerie on it, just like in the plain room of the factory.

Charlie walked over and he noticed that on one of her delicate cotton candy thread wings, there was a gumdrop missing. A yellow gumdrop.

He fished the candy from out of his pocket and carefully placed it where it should have been.

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"Charlie, wake up! The directors from the Union board are going to arrive in an hour and you need a bath."

Charlie woke up from feverish dreams of the land of the sugar plums and saw his mother's annoyed face instead.

"Oh right, thanks mum."

It was Christmas day, the snow was falling thickly outside and the directors from the chocolatiers Union had come over to see if it was all true. Wonka had sent them a polite, if somewhat incomprehensible letter, saying that he had married and complied with the decree, and they just had to come and see for themselves.

"And I'm stuck cooking the Christmas lunch for a group of rich old fogies."

Mrs. Bucket had agreed to help out any way she could but she was still annoyed about the situation. All morning as she cooked Charlie could hear her mutter the same phrase now and again.

"Complimentary soaps my foot."

Wendy had been quite distant with Wonka and being so strange as she was, he was always reminded of the sugar plum faerie. But there was no familiarity and all their exchanges were one-sided. He continued to cheerfully babble on and keep trying though.

Mrs. Bucket knew that Charlie thought Wonka was oblivious to the cold shoulder he was getting and was being his usual persistent, silly self, but Mrs. Bucket, being a sort of Wendy herself, could see differently. Wendy would wait for him to finish his chatter, wait if there was anymore, and then would walk away. Wonka would deflate a little afterwards, and he truly had no idea what to do. She felt pity for him, and for Wendy and just decided to wash her hands of it and not get involved in the sticky mess.

Wendy had agreed to cooperate for the Christmas lunch and be more civil and loving towards Wonka and so it seemed that everything was going to run smoothly.

Wendy had reached a sort of numb mask she could show to the world, but inside she felt like she was slowly dying of the strain. Her love for Wonka had just intensified since she decided she would cut herself off from him and it was so hard to tell her heart to obey her when she didn't even know if she had one. Just like she had no chocolate stomach, but definitely had something moving about right above it.

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The tables had been set, the oompa loompas had decorated the room, Mrs. Bucket had pulled off a hat trick and Charlie was neatly scrubbed and screamed of cleanliness.

And then the doorbell rang.

"Why hello my dear Wonka, it's good to see you again."

"My, my, we didn't expect you to invite us into your factory."

"Oh what a lovely wife you have."

The other directors fell silent as they all just noticed Wendy as well. She smiled very prettily at them and they all rushed to shake her hand and drink in her loveliness.

"My dear you look very beautiful today-"

"What a curious birthmark you have-"

"Wonka you old dog!"

The rest of the conversation pretty much went that way, uninteresting and insipid. Mrs. Bucket observed all from her quite observer's viewpoint, only having to smile and agree now and again. Charlie had Grandpa Joe to amuse him, lucky boy. They decided that since only Grandpa Joe could make it to the room far away from the wonderful inventions of the factory, and that Grandpa George would probably have been too rude, he was the only one who could come. Mr. Bucket had to work.

She noticed that Wendy was very good at what she was doing. She would look over and smile at Willy, whisper things in his ear, fuss over him and just seemed to radiate with joy because she was with him.

Wonka himself was quite excited at the change and the liveliness from his chocolate bride and preened himself a little under the attention she gave him. He reciprocated her actions right back, enjoying himself and glancing over to see the board directors and how they reacted.

Things were going so well! He was new to the whole thing still, even though it had been a couple months, but he was enjoying it. This was his Wendy!

Mrs. Bucket saw this all and having been and being a bit of a Wendy to her Mr. Bucket herself, she knew that she would have to whisk Charlie away quite soon after the lunch was over. He was still a bit young to see furious quarrels go on in earnest.

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When the last of the directors left in their fancy limos Wendy shuddered a little and leaned heavily against the door. Wonka was oblivious to her little collapse and was giddy.

"Wasn't that fun?"

Wonka was in such a good and happy mood that he took Wendy by the shoulders and gave her a small kiss.

"This is love, right?"

Truth be told Wendy had been in a delirious state of mind throughout the whole lunch. It was so hard for her and yet it was so easy to act the way she did. Once her heart had begun to beat so hard that she felt it hammering in her neck, and then Willy not only held her hand under the table but gave it an affectionate squeeze, and then coloured lights began to dance in front of her eyes and only after blinking a bit did they begin to fade.

When he whispered in her ear, some sweet nonsense, that place above her stomach went all fluttery and she didn't even hear what he said, just his breath tickling the sensitive hairs in her ear.

And now that it was all over she just had to let herself tremble. The kiss he had given her now was an electric jolt but she found she could face it after her horrible epiphany sometime towards the end of the lunch. This horrible love born of horrible magic…

"Now I understand."

"Understand what, the meaning to the universe? Because a lot of folks have been working it out and they'd be glad to hear what you say-"

"You worked day and night on me didn't you?"

"Wendy?"

"I'm the greatest thing you EVER made, right?"

"Of course."

"You don't love me…you don't see me…"

Her voice trembled with anger and bitterness.

"All you see is some trophy. Some crowning achievement to your skill and talent. I'm the greatest chocolate you've ever made, but that's it, I'm just something you created and are proud of. When you look at me, you don't LOOK at me…you just see good work!"

Wonka fell deathly silent and Wendy was seething with fury and heartache now that she finally understood and she was surprised that it hurt her as well.

"But I know I'm more…I have to be…"

And with unsteady legs Wendy turned and grappled with the doorknob until she finally got the heavy entrance doors open. It almost slammed back from the howling winter wind but she struggled with it and slipped out into the cold London street.

"Wait-"

Wonka fought with the door as well and called out to her.

"Wendy, where are you going?"

"Far away from you!"

And with only her flimsy dress on Wendy hugged herself and battled through the brutal weather of December and felt colder than she had ever been. It was Christmas day but the streets seemed more empty than she expected.

Wonka was battling with himself to dash out and bring her back but he settled on waiting to see what happened. If she really was going to walk away…he would let her do that. Something she said struck him.

Wendy made her way doggedly on through the snow and her teeth began to chatter and click together uncontrollably. She could hardly see where she was going and the snow was so thick. The wind was so biting and her skin felt numb and then on fire and numb again…

Wendy was not all real, there was still some of her former stuff left in her. And she felt herself becoming more rigid and that she couldn't move as well. She still tried to press on but she had become a chocolate that has stayed in the freezer for too long and had become frigid.

From his vantage point Wonka was about to give up on ever seeing Wendy again when he saw her collapse in the middle of the street.


	11. Chapter 10

A/N Oh yes my lovely reviewers it's been quite awhile, apologies. I've been having some writer's block but I've managed to go over a couple hurdles. We're in the clear again...at least, for now. Please keep coming with the feedback, I love to hear from you so much!

In this chap Wendy has another melting session (in the shower, evil laughter), and Wonka has some choice things to say through the door.

Chapter 11

* * *

When Wendy fell to the ground it was a horrifying moment. She couldn't move her limbs and was screaming at her body to obey her but it had become too stiff for motor control. She slowly felt her head begin to freeze rigid as well and she knew she wouldn't be able to do something about it.

And then she felt peace. She wouldn't have to know anything, she could just freeze right up and away…with the beating of pixie wings dusting her with sugar powder…

* * *

Wonka saw his Wendy fall to the ground and didn't move for a second. He didn't know how to feel until all the feelings just came right up in a stampede and he bolted out the door, his cane clattering to the ground behind him.

He didn't have to run that far, but it was almost as if he wanted to keep running. When he ran his brain starting to run too, and he was going through everything that had happened and he had just reached something before he looked down and found Wendy by his feet.

He had to slow down, and he was afraid he would lose it then. But he saw Wendy, still gorgeous and perfect in immobility, unconscious. She looked at peace, softer, much softer and he wished her eyes were soft when they looked at him. He carefully picked her up and began carrying her back to the factory. And he found he couldn't run.

The walk back was not as rushed an affair, and under the cold street light Wonka looked at his Wendy. He really tried to LOOK. It didn't come as a revelatory epiphany or some dramatic conclusion, but the walk back allowed what he pushed away to sink into him, staring at her closed eyes the whole while. Her soft, closed eyes…

Wonka wasn't too sure what was supposed to happen afterwards, but he had a bit of an idea. And golly, isn't a bit of an idea better than a bittle? (which is a little plus a bit)

Somewhere a little above his stomach (and he did have one) was a little fluttery feeling and he felt warm all over despite how cold it was. Perhaps he had become so cold he was going through the fire, numb, fire stage. Hmmm…but the warmth had him grinning once more as he entered the factory instead of the worry.

* * *

Unconscious, Wendy curled a little closer to the calling warmth.

From the next electric moment of Wonka's fingertips gently holding her, the place above Wendy's (not) stomach had fluttered and grown warm and it pulsed in replace for the heart (she really didn't have).

The warmth began to spread but it came from her surroundings as well this time and she found herself beginning to unfreeze a little. When she had warmed enough to open her eyes she saw a blurry wall of wine colored velvet. Damn.

Only her surface had warmed, she was still very cold and when she realized where she was, she ignored the flutter feeling above her (not) stomach and struggled. Wonka let her down, surprised by the sudden movement and she gave him the darkest look she had before rigidly walking away from him.

But this time Wonka made no protest, or look upon her retreating figure with hurt, but with something quite entirely different.

"Willy-oh Wendy! You're covered in snow!"

"Mrs. Bucket, could you retrieve some toiletries-which means towels and bathrobes and brushes and toothbrushes and stuff y'know…uh, for Wendy. She's cold-"

"-that's damn right you bloody-"

"-and she needs a nice shower. Right, Wendy?"

Wendy turned on him, tried to turn on him and could only slowly revolve in a stilted fashion before snarling at him (she was positively frigid, the cold made her a right bitch). Wonka wilted a little under the verbal barrage but motioned for Mrs. Bucket to hurry.

"Who do you think you are to order me around or decide what's best for me? I don't need your bloody charity, so why don't you stuff it with your stupid hat and furthermore-"

Mrs. Bucket gently took Wendy by the arm.

"Wendy, there's a shower beside the chocolate room, you feel dreadfully cold and it'll warm you up quickly. You can't get sick or Charlie will be very disappointed, come on love…"

Wendy let herself be lead away by Mrs. Bucket and didn't give Wonka a passing glance (well she did, but it was scathing). Under normal circumstances Wonka would have been hurt and confused and felt like things were unfair, but after carrying her through the snow, being able to watch her under the flicker of the streetlight…things were different. It was trickling like hot chocolate from the top of his head and it had pretty much reached his toes by now, warming him all up.

When Wendy had gotten in the shower room and after some shrieks of pain ("Aaghwhysitsobloodycold!") and instructions from Mrs. Bucket through the door, a steady stream of warm water could be heard and Mrs. Bucket went to get Wendy's toiletries. The chocolate girl seemed to have calmed and was enjoying warming up. And Wonka walked over to the small shower room, his retrieved cane clicking behind him.

Wendy could hear him walking up to the door. Then things grew silent. Wonka had sat down beside the door, taken his hat off his head and rolled it around on his fingertips. He knew she knew he was there (and it tickled him to continue that ridiculous banter but he controlled himself). After a moment he spoke, in a rare moment of solemnity and wisdom he proved to have.

"I know an apology means nothing, and is too little."

Wendy subconsciously found herself leaning against the locked shower door, the place above her stomach straining and the hairs in her ears trying to pick up what he was saying.

"So how about I give you, us, a fresh start? I can't promise things will be perfect right away, but we can try can't we? And I've already promised to love you, and I will…do."

Then there was some shuffling, and the clicking of a swirled cane that grew fainter with each step the chocolatier took away from the shower.

Wendy stood very still inside the gaps of the falling water and felt something. Damn water must be too bloody hot, prone to such chocolate characteristics as she was, she felt something melt inside of her.


	12. Chapter 11

A/N Okay, I'M BACK! I've battled two other WIP's, work and writer's block and finally I have a new chapter for you all. Don't worry, it's smooth sailing from here on in, and the fic will soon be drawing to a close. Thanks for everyone who continues to read and review, and especially to Anglic Bladez who pestered me enough. (smiles)

Sorry if this chap's kinda fluffy.

* * *

Chapter 12

When Wonka strolled by the chocolate room again fifteen minutes past, he saw Mrs. Bucket, confirmed that Wendy had gone up to their rooms and bid her a very fond night.

Wonka made sure he opened the door quietly and when he looked in, Wendy, exhausted from the day's events, had collapsed on the floor beside her beloved pedestal. She had the same peaceful, soft look about her again and when Wonka looked closer he noticed something was different.

She had melted. She couldn't stand still like a chocolate statue as she once was able. Well, that meant the pedestal was not suitable anymore. Wonka gently scooped her into his arms again and placed him under the covers of his bed. He realized that it would have to be that way from then on, and the corners of his mouth threatened to tug up a little from some odd delirious high bubbling inside of him.

"Golly, must be too many endorphins in the new Christmas chocolates."

But his smile was too knowing.

* * *

Charlie woke up with a startled yelp in the darkness and scared Mrs. Bucket, who had just walked in through the door.

"Mum!"

"Goodness Charlie, you gave me a fright! What's the matter?"

Her little son was distressed beyond words and he struggled to articulate himself, causing him to hiccup and frustrated and miserable he sank back into his pillow. She rushed over to his side and tried to comfort him.

"Mum…I don't have dreams about her anymore."

"You mean the sugarplum faerie?"

"Yes."

"Then forget about her."

It wasn't the answer Charlie wanted to hear but he hid his disappointment and buried himself into the security of his mother's warm embrace. She hugged her son tightly to her and knew his disappointment. She had known he was dreaming of the elusive pixie, and she knew her little boy had been changing a little each day.

She had been losing her son to a woman spun from sugar crystals.

And as much as she cared and loved the man like a bit of an obscure son, she didn't want Charlie to end up like Wonka at all.

* * *

Wonka realized he had a bit of a dilemma. He needed to sleep as well. He was very tired. But he had placed somebody in his bed, thus filling up a place he normally would have.

The logical solution would have been to replace the place that had been displaced by the replacing of his place that had been displaced. But he found he couldn't sleep like Wendy used to be able to, and had tried to stand very still in a crane position but ended up toppling over after a wobbly fifteen seconds.

He tried standing up on the pedestal with his arms stiff by his side, like the funny men in red coats outside the building almost as big as his factory. But after fifteen minutes he cramped all over and fell to an exhausted heap on the floor.

He was unsure, but decided there was just enough space Wendy wasn't taking up that he could place seeing as he had been displaced from that place and it hadn't fully been replaced...right.

Wonka cautiously slipped under the covers of the far side of the bed and forgot all about nerves and placed and displaces (not to mention replaces) when he felt so warm and comfortable that he fell asleep beside his wife.

* * *

Wendy felt sunlight (actually the oompa loompa that worked the big lamp) hit the back of her neck and it felt odd. Usually it hit her straight in the face and woke her up, not from behind. And she felt much warmer than usual upon waking.

There was a muffled yell and the scampering of tiny feet. The room's door swung open and shut and then there was unbridled laughter of a little person running down the hallway of the Wonka factory.

There was the comfortable weight of a blanket covering her and…she was in a very intimate position with Willy.

Her arm had rested upon his chest, their legs tangled, his fingers tangled in her hair before she gave a muffled yell herself. A sleepy voice emerged from the folds of blanket beside her.

"Mmmff…score? Who said score?"

In the back of Wendy's brain she registered that the oompa loompa that ran from the room must have said that (they had been demonstrating how husbands and wives treated each other in hopes to encourage the Willy, Wendy couple for ages now) but what she was most worried about now was disentangling herself without fully jarring the chocolatier into waking. But she was fighting a losing battle.

Wonka'seyes opened and he first saw Wendy's eyes, like pools of melted caramel. His own curious maroon eyes laughed back at her and it quite amused him to see her embarrassment.

"Hello starshine."

The absurdity hit Wendy like a brick and she had to cover her mouth with her hand to bridle the delirious laughter that almost followed that comment. After a bit of stifling she managed to choke out,

"That was very bad."

Wonka was a little bashful about the situation as well but shrugged and propped himself up so he could look at Wendy as he spoke to her.

"I tried to name you Wilhelmina but Charlie stopped me."

And despite her heart starting to beat a million times a second, and the horrible love twisting within her melted insides, Wendy found she couldn't do anything about…anything except laugh. The thought of being Wilhelmina was too much and she collapsed into a fit of giggles.

Caramel eyes met maroon ones in laughter and there was an unspoken dissolving of some barriers. Wendy remembered the night before and what she had heard outside the shower room door and she was too warm to snarl or be as frigid and cold as she had been before (well heck, she was so cold she needed thawing!). When Wonka scooped her into his arms and held her against him she let him.

"Itssaturdayanimstilltired…"

Came the muffled explanation and Wonka relaxed and fell asleep again. The place above Wendy's stomach was wreaking havoc but she didn't try to suppress it, she turned to look at Willy. Which was difficult, he had an almighty squeeze, and she saw a small frown line in between his brow and decided it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

* * *

"Why are the oompa loompas so chittery around you Wendy?"

Wendy smiled a little ruefully, nervously smoothing out invisible wrinkles in her red summer dress.

"Why don't you listen carefully to what they're saying and tell me."

Charlie had learned some of their language and tried to convey it in broken words as best as he could.

"Finally got it on…acting natural…husband, wife…score…can't make families by holding hands…"

Wendy clapped her hands over Charlie's ears in a hurry.

"You can stop listening now."

The two spent an enjoyable picnic by the bank of the chocolate river as they often spent Charlie's free lunch hour. He told her another fairy story, this time about the horrible pirate Bluebeard. Charlie grew enthusiastic and grabbing a cinnamon stick, acted out most of it on the grassy bank.

He jabbed his "sword" here and there and then in the direction of the chocolate river when he was suddenly face to face with the open jaws of a pink dragon. A startled yell came from both Charlie and the oompa loompa that had been steering the pink dragon boat.

Wendy's ladle of dark chocolate still insured her eye-openers and losses of small innocents, but she had become much softer and positively laughed with glee and delight at all of Charlie's antics, untainted. And here she was presented with a class act moment.

Charlie had joined the laughter as well when his eyes followed where the pink dragon boat was heading and the laughter started to die. It went past a plain, wooden door somewhere far down the tunnel and by the time he sat beside Wendy again, he was positively glum.

"Charlie, what's wrong?"

Charlie looked mournfully at Wendy.

"You can keep a secret, right?"

Wendy stared back at him eyes of melted caramel and he knew she was being sincere and nodded with her.

"Okay…one day when Mr. Wonka was telling me about the sugar plum faerie, and he said the day I became a chocolatier was when she came to me in a dream. Well…I've been having half-dreams…"

"Isn't that a good thing Charlie?"

"Yes I supposed it was too, but then I realized just how important she was becoming to me. Too much to be normal. And mum was getting worried too, she never said but I could tell. My last dream ended jut before she came. And I haven't had any since."

Charlie fell silent and Wendy had to bend her head to see his downcast eyes.

"I want her to come and I don't want her to."

"You don't want to become a chocolatier?"

"No I do, I do…but it's just…I love Mr. Wonka, I think he's brilliant, a genius and he's great and wonderful and brings happiness to people…but I don't want to end up like him in the "other" way. If she makes you like that…"

Wendy understood then, and she wrapped her arms around the trembling boy who had spilt his darkest secret, that had torn him up for so long. She squeezed him tightly and her heart swelled like a balloon for him.

"Oh Charlie, you can't ever turn out like Willy Wonka because you are Charlie Bucket. We both know Willy was alone since he was very little. But you have always had the Buckets with you, you've had, have and will always have your family. In fact, you're one up Willy for that."

Charlie gave a tentative smile,

"You really think so?"

"I know so, and so does your mum and dad, and your Grandpa Joe, Grandma Josephine, Grandpa George and-"

"I don't think Grandma Georgina would know. She doesn't know where he is half the time."

"-oh I think she'd know. Because you have your family, you know about love and people and you will be far better at making people happy than Willy because you understand it better. And because of it you won't turn…the "other" way."

She gave him a conspiratorial wink and when he smiled, her heart swelled even more. She had never been able to help her friend before, it had always been the reverse, and the feeling was good.

* * *

At night Wendy stood up on her pedestal and tried to fall asleep, but to her horror she discovered that her head began to sink into her chest. The balls of her feet hurt, her arms tingled and she cramped.

"That won't work silly."

The hairs in her ear felt the tickle of warm breath and she shivered and turned to see Wonka's amused grin behind her.

"Oh yeah?"

"You've melted a bit. I think it was the shower. You're too soft now."

Wonka turned her around and gently lead her to the bed. When they were both under the covers Wonka snuggled in beside her and held her to him as he had done before. This wreaked havoc again in the place above Wendy's stomach but she tried to be nonchalant.

"Will this become an annoying habit of yours?"

"Huh, I don't have annoying habits. You're silly."

He hugged her to him in a deathgrip, the little frown line in between his brows as he sunk into sleep. The most beautiful thing, she thought. In her opinion, it was as if he clung to her like a dream that he didn't want to wake from.


	13. Chapter 12

A/N Aw, your reviews are as sweet as the candy I eat. Actually, I don't have any which is why I was in the dumps in the first place. Pooh. Thanks a bunch my lovely readers and reviewers, this fairytale has drawn to a close, but for those who know the myth, the epilogue must be read. MUST BE READ.

Thank you so much! Kisses.

* * *

Chapter 13

"Hello Charlie."

Charlie opened his eyes. Snowflakes of powdered sugar fell to tickle and leave butterfly kisses on his brow. He looked around him to find himself back in the land of sugarplums. The grand portrait above him was finally complete.

"Charlie Bucket…"

All of a sudden the portrait moved. The candy lady inside moved her head and with drops of the darkest syrup she smiled at him. Then she stepped down from the portrait and daintily made her way over to him, very real and very alive. Charlie almost felt like backing away on his hands and knees but he couldn't move.

Taking his hands in hers she continued to smile and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"…you now have my dreams."

* * *

Wonka and his Wendy were in the inventing room.

He had decided she should see more carefully all the splendiferous and most contrabiulous things Charlie and he were making. She looked upon interestedly at the different machines and the oompa loompas scurrying about with their work.

"Are all your machines colorful and make strange noises?"

Wonka looked abashed.

"But…what kind of machine doesn't?"

Wendy hid in a laugh and shrugged,

"Yes I suppose you're right."

Wonka looked excitedly about the room before finally locating a tray of some new confection he had stirred together. The pieces of his newly mixed chocolate were just about ready and gingerly her took a piece from the tray.

"Here, why don't you try this?"

Wendy frowned a little and sniffed a little.

"I…I don't think so…"

Wonka smiled,

"Oh but this candy is just as dandy as you."

Wendy still shook her head,

"I don't think I should."

Wonka tried one more time, oozing with charm.

"Just a little piece?"

Wendy was still frowning a little but she opened her mouth and he popped the small chocolate inside. No sooner had it begun to melt on her tongue, she clapped her hands over her mouth and ran to find a place where she could spit the candy out.

"Wendy?"

"That…was awful…"

Wonka raised an eyebrow,

"Now I had Charlie taste that myself and he didn't say anything like _that_!"

"It was like eating another person…"

Wonka grew silent after that and looked at her a little strangely.

"You really are quite different than her."

* * *

Charlie rode confidently in the pink dragonboat as it roared down the chocolate river. He was in such an upbeat mood today he was sure nothing could bring him back down from his trip to cloud nine.

He yanked open the only plain door in the factory and walked inside to see the portrait of the sugarplum faerie once more.

"Charlie?"

Wendy poked her head in.

"You scared the oompa loompas, driving so fast."

Charlie looked around to see Wendy and was a grin from ear to ear. He beckoned for her to come in and got her to stand in front of the portrait as well.

"I dreamt of her last night Wendy. She finally came, and now I don't need her anymore. She's not, how do you say it? In my head so much."

Wendy smiled and hugged her little friend,

"That's great Charlie, I told you things would be different for you."

"I do say, is there a party in here?"

Wonka came into the room as well, his cane clicking merrily across the floor. Charlie beamed at him,

"Mr. Wonka, I had a dream of her last night."

Wonka smiled along with Charlie and put a friendly arm around his shoulders. It was a crowning moment for the both of them, mentor and pupil. The portrait of the sugarplum faerie glistened and almost seemed to look at them from her perch.

"Yes…the chocolatier's first and only love."

Charlie frowned a little and looked at Wendy who was staring at Wonka. The very devil oblivious to what he said or the reactions it caused. Wendy looked more than a little hurt.

"What?"

Charlie was staring at the both of them with wide eyes.

"Mr. Wonka, you're really not that good with people are you?"

"What?"

He seemed surprised now at how seriously they were staring at him. Wendy looked from the portrait and then back down to herself. All of a sudden she felt black hatred for the beautiful entity in front of her. She hated how she looked like her, even down to her pale, slender hands.

She wished she could rip off the faerie's face, it was _her _face. But then…wasn't she the one who was created second?

"Is that why I look like her?"

Wonka was seriously confused.

"You look like who and who look like what now?"

Wendy felt the hatred curling inside of her like a monster, she wanted to be angry but all of this died down when she realized she felt quite sick somewhere else. Near the left side of her chest, right where she didn't really have a heart.

Wendy walked over to the portrait of the sugarplum faerie, essentially her maker, her goddess and she ripped the portrait from the wall. It tore easily, being quite old and she let it float down to the floor in tattered scraps. She found the piece with the faerie's face and stared at it.

"I guess she is quite beautiful…I guess I can't blame you…"

Wendy walked out of the room.

It took a moment for Wonka to sift through everything that happened and realize he was just about to lose something very dear to him. He ran after Wendy but couldn't find her anywhere in the chocolate room. Not in the Buckets' house, or anywhere.

He ran around like a madman through the factory trying to find her. He wished his thoughts and everything would speed up with his running like it had last time but it seemed the faster he ran the more his thoughts would go at a snail's crawl.

What had she meant? He knew what she had meant, but what did he know about what she meant that he knew—what?

He burst into his rooms and found her standing on her old pedestal, the scrap of portrait still in her hand. He rushed over and took her by the shoulders,

"Wendy!"

The place above where her stomach should have been fluttered when she saw him, but her smile was so small it shouldn't have counted.

"It's okay Willy, I should have known…you can't really change who you are, no one really can, can they?"

Wonka shook his head so hard his top hat flew off and landed on the floor somewhere.

"No, Wendy, things were…okay, things were like _that_ at first, in the beginning, you know? But things now, are…are things _now_ and aren't like _that_ at the beginning."

His thoughts were slowly starting to pick up the pace and he desperately pushed on and tried to sort them out.

"I…I _like_ that you're different and that you kind of get funny in the head when it feels like Hawaii, or when you're too cold, and that sometimes you trip over things and…and that you yell at me, it's scary, and I don't like it, but I don't, _don't _like it either and…and…I like that you're _you _and…I just realized all this now."

He stared at her breathlessly hoping to see something in her caramel eyes and when he decided things weren't happening quickly enough he planted one crushing kiss, trying to let all the weird feelings and adrenaline and thoughts now at warp speed running through him, to have somewhere to go.

Wendy felt something beat where it shouldn't have, something flutter where it didn't exist and she finally knew that she was loved.

When Wonka pulled away it was to see Wendy with her eyes closed, in bliss, melting and melting away into the air. A little frown line burrowed itself between his eyes and he stepped back.

She was gone.

* * *

END

A/N Please don't forget the epilogue, it is coming soon


	14. Epilogue

A/N The end

**

* * *

**

**Epilogue**

Wonka was in a shambles.

He finally realized what had happened. He had failed. He, the great Willy Wonka had made a mistake, royally screwed up and now he was tasting the first bitterness of defeat.

And it was quite bitter.

His eyes were bloodshot, he hadn't slept in quite some time or taken care of himself in anyway, his hands were scraped and raw from working and now he just slumped over in his rooms, admitting defeat.

His first thought had been to try again and feverishly he had worked in the inventing room attempting to carve Wendy afresh out of chocolate. But it hadn't worked, his best had gone into her before and he found he hadn't the heart each time he tried to carve. He had continued to push on but just ended up with broken pieces of chocolate and exhaustion.

He had failed her…and she had been taken away…

And now he just wanted to sleep…

* * *

When Wonka opened his eyes it was to have powdered sugar fall and leave delicate, butterfly kisses on his brow. He was someplace he had visited on an October night some time ago.

He propped himself up on his shoulders and looked around through his weary eyes. A portrait of the sugarplum faerie, unmarred, loomed high above him. The faerie in the portrait smiled and stepped down and out of the frame to make her way over to him.

"Willy…my brave little soldier."

She leaned down to where he was and smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Charlie learned this much sooner than you…I now give you my dreams,"

She held his hand and looked straight into his maroon eyes.

"You don't need me anymore."

Willy woke up with a yell still caught within his throat. He slumped back against the wall, his eyes tightly shut when he noticed something quite warm beside him, holding his hand. Just like the faerie had.

He looked over to see two eyes of melted caramel brimming with a smile and lots of mischief. They frowned a little when they saw his own bloodshot beauties.

And the voice that spoke to him was very warm, and very real.

"I think, dear husband, it is time I get to work on you."

**END**

* * *

A/N Okay, a big thank you and a big KISS to all my reviewers. Muah! Thank you all so very much, I enjoyed writing this fic and your reviews really made my day. You'd make me laugh at the most random moments in the most public places--and I couldn't ask for anything else. THANKS!


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